Paradise Escape

by Mia Rodriguez

Paradise Escape

  Copyright 2013 Mia Rodriguez

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  Cover photo by Alex 'Pelos' Briseño

  Dedication

  To all the young people going against the brainwash of status quo.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  I miss Miguel. Strange but true. I love my privacy, but he is such a non-intrusive kind of a guy. I miss him walking with me through Paradise Village. I miss his asking me about my day. I miss our boomerang sessions with my toy which I'm not allowed anymore. I guess I miss someone caring about me.

  Sure, I still see him at church and when he can get a few minutes to visit with me but that isn't much compared to the time we used to spend together when I was supposed to marry the Mister. Speaking about Master Barstowe, the man has disappeared. It's already been a few weeks, and my sixteenth birthday is today, and he's nowhere in sight. I'm so, so, so relieved.

  I keep looking over my shoulder expecting the seventy-year-old to materialize and tell me I have to marry him anyway. It's a ridiculous and nonsensical feeling since he'd never want me to be his wife now with the puckered, burned skin on my left arm. No man in Paradise Village would accept a bride with such ugly scars. My blood boils when I think about how they steal us as children, watch that we grow up to be attractive, and force us to be their slaves. They insist that the True Faith religion is the one true one on earth. That the Great Master of the universe himself has blessed it and wants us girls to serve our husbands with total blind servitude.

  It's total garbage! I've always known that the Elders and Masters here are brainwashing us.

  With Betsey, may she rest in peace, having thrown hot water on me, what she had meant for my harm had actually been for my good. I no longer have to marry the smelly creep or anybody for that matter. Not only that but the Elders who had had it in for me for having cared for Beatrix who they wanted dead, seem to be happy with what had happened to me. I guess they feel that I've been punished enough for my transgression.

  When the Mister had placed Miguel as my protector, I hadn't realized what a huge favor he had done for me. Not only would the Elders not do anything to me in front of him since they knew he'd have to report back to Master Barstowe, but he had turned out to be excellent company. I miss him so much! Having been bumped down from being a destiny-bride to a servant-girl, I have even less privileges than before and consorting with a helper-boy is completely out of the question.

  After I finish my cleaning chores at the slave quarters, Helga tells me I need to go to the Highest Holy Grinder household to help with the housekeeping. I can't help but think that it's incredibly remarkable how much she's changed towards me. Not too long ago she used to hate me. Now we have common ground. With her scarred face where attack dogs had bitten her and my scorched arm, we make quite a team.

  "After you finish at the Grinder household, you can go to the Barstowe one," she states quietly.

  "Okay, Helga." I remember a time when she would've snapped at me and had a sarcastic remark for me.

  "By the way, happy birthday."

  "Thank you."

  I had dreaded my sixteenth birthday for so long that now that it's here, I can't stop shuddering or my stomach from filling with bile. With sixteen being the age that girls have to wed their destiny-husbands, it's a horrible day indeed!

  Stop freaking out, I tell myself. I'm not marrying anybody today.

  As I step out of the old, huge shack that is for all intents and purposes home to me, I am greeted by the shining sun. I smile at its rays. Only a few short weeks ago, it would've been unthinkable that I would be content today.

  I go past the smelly outhouse and walk on the dirt roads, making a right at the food warehouse, and a left on the clothes ordering shop to Highest Holy Grinder's household. That's the only thing that puts a damper on today. I hate going to his house.

  With Grinder being the spiritual leader at Paradise Village, he has the nicest home--next to the Mister's one that is. With Master Barstowe being the most powerful man here, he has the most beautiful house but Grinder's one is a close second.

  Grinder's abode is a huge two-story red brick place with large windows and green shutters. Maple trees align the outside and many flower beds surround it. Beauty is often deceiving. I take a deep breath as I step inside. I never know what kind of viciousness I'll find there and a harmful vibe is always in the air. Always. You can feel a piercing sensation on your skin and breathe whiffs of hostile air while in the house.

  Not giving a greeting to anyone as I'm instructed to do, I head to the supply closet for a broom. Grinder likes his house swept before anything else is done. I'm lucky that as a servant-girl, he feels I'm not a sufficiently worthy enough person to say hello to anyone in his household. I like being ignored. Believe me, it's better than to be focused on. Just ask his family-wives who as I start cleaning are on their knees praying loudly to the Great Master to keep blessing their holy husband. They say the same prayer in a litany--the one that Cordelia, Grinder's head-wife, had come up with. They're in the prayer room next to the living area with the door open so I can hear their words very clearly as they tell the Great Master how unworthy they are of having such an exalted husband and why they hope to one day be worthy of him.

  Total garbage. I'll say it again.

  "Please keep Highest Holy Grinder safe with all the evil around him," they say in unison.

  He's the evil.

  "Don't let the evil creature near him."

  He's the evil creature.

  "Bestow many of your generous gifts on him. Take from us to give to him because we don't deserve anything from you but disdain. We are so unworthy, Great Master."

  I try to tune them out as I keep sweeping the living room. Brainwashing goes deep if they really believe the stuff that's coming out of their mouths.

  As I'm about to pick up the dirt in the dishpan, the outside door swings open and Grinder comes barreling in. He ignores me as usual, but stomps into the prayer room, steppi
ng on my dirt pile and sending it in all directions. I'll have to sweep the same areas all over again, but what I'm concerned about is the look on his face. He's furious. Fire is practically igniting from his mouth. This will mean something very horrible for at least one of his wives. Maybe for all of them.

  "Jana!!!" he bellows, his harsh, splintering voice reverberating on the walls. He yanks out his black mini-baseball club from the white briefcase he always carries with him. "You're really going to get it this time!!!"

  Chapter Two

  Jana's face is completely bewildered and in agonizing fear as she stares at the discipline club. I'm very frightened for my friend. Why is he threatening to beat her? I wonder with knots in my stomach. But it doesn't take much to set off the Elders and the Masters.

  "You've embarrassed me for the last time, Jana! You took an extra cookie at yesterday's holy-wife meeting!"

  I had been at that meeting as a server, serving the family-wives their scanty meals and cookies for desert. It's true that Jana had eaten two oatmeal cookies while Grinder's other wives had only taken one oatmeal cookie but everyone else had taken two also. I know how obsessed the Masters are with their wives not gaining weight, but I hardly think that one extra cookie will do it. Besides, how ironic is it for Grinder to be on Jana for taking an extra cookie when he and the other Elders stole us from our families to bring us here and make us into their slaves. How ironic is that?

  "You're one of my wives! The wife of the holiest man in Paradise Village, the son of the Great Master himself! You're supposed to be an example to all the other wives in Paradise Village! Stand up, Jana!"

  I don't want to see what's coming next, so I grab my broom and rush to the storage closet. Before shutting the door behind me, I hear the resounding whacks of the discipline club. Jana shrieks in agonizing pain. I slump to the floor as soon as I'm inside the closet and cover my ears with my hands. But I can still hear the raging of the blows and the anguished cries of Jana. The walls aren't thick enough for the violence that happens in this house.

  A bloody and unconscious Jana is rushed to the hospital when the horrible abuse is finally over. It must've been at least twenty minutes of a nonstop beating. I quickly return to my housework before Grinder turns his fury on me. He acts as if nothing vile just happened. The rest of his wives go on with their usual activities. No one accompanies Jana to emergency.

  How people get used to evil I don't know. I'm still shaking when I leave that inferno. I'm tempted to head towards the hospital but if Grinder finds out I visited Jana instead of doing my work, there will be two of us in I.C.U. And this time there's no Master Barstowe to keep Grinder from knocking me senseless.

  I tell myself to concentrate on taking one step at a time until I make it to the Mister's household. If my knees give out in the middle of the street, I may be beaten by any of the Masters or Elders for loitering.

  With a huge sigh of relief, my hand grasps the doorknob at the Barstowe home. I manage to open it before my shaky legs threaten to finally give completely out.

  "Happy birthday!" The family-wives greet me. I try to keep from falling. They see my condition and rush to me. Helping me to the sofa, they ask me what's wrong. I explain about Jana as they listen sympathetically.

  "I've heard awful things about Highest Holy Grinder's household," states Stacy.

  "Unfortunately, they're all true," I assert. The things I had seen in that household will be in my nightmares until the day I die. Grinder terrorizes his wives. There is no other way to put it. He is either yelling at them, beating them, or thinking of ways to make their lives even more miserable. His head-wife Cordelia is part of the abuse. She, like Betsey when she was alive and in this house, gets a twisted satisfaction in seeing the other wives suffer.

  "Last week Highest Holy Grinder made his wives pray outside in the rainstorm,'" Lauren comments.

  "But it was coming down hard!" Agatha chimes in. "It was thundering like crazy and the wind velocity was at least sixty miles per hour!"

  "He made them, except for Cordelia, get on their knees on the lawn and pray for the weather to clear up. When it didn't, he beat them. He blamed them for not having enough faith to stop the storm," Lauren states with horror in her voice.

  "I heard that Cordelia makes the other wives stand for hours in the hot sun every day with a bucket in each hand and praying every day," Bernice mentions, her face in a disgusted knot.

  "Stuff like that didn't happen when Highest Holy Bledsoe was alive," Stacy states, "I mean things were still hard but he wasn't a total fanatic like Highest Holy Grinder. Highest Holy Grinder never said he was the son of the Great Master. Never even insinuated it."

  "I've got to admit something," Lauren says, her voice going down a few decibels as if afraid someone from outside our circle can listen to her. "I don't think that Highest Holy Grinder is the son of the Great Master," she rushes.

  A shocked silence ensues. It took a lot of nerve for her to say what she did. She could be executed for even thinking that Grinder isn't who he says he is. We could be executed for listening to her.

  "I doubt if he's related to the Great Master in any way," I state, wanting to give Lauren my support.

  "I've had my doubts," Stacy mumbles.

  The other wives now open up and agree with us. How can someone so evil be the son of the Great Master? Ever since Bledsoe had died, Paradise Village got worse by the day. Grinder seems to revel in thinking of ways to make our lives pure misery.

  I want to completely open up and tell them exactly what I think of Paradise Village and the brainwashing we're subjected to, but I don't. Only Miguel knows my deepest thoughts. I realize that even though the wives are slowly waking up now that Master Barstowe hasn't been here, there's still a lot of garbage in their minds. Total garbage that will take time to get rid of.

  "Maybe we're supposed to follow Highest Holy Grinder, in spite of his crazy ideas," Agatha comments softly.

  "What do you mean?" I ask.

  "Do you think this is a test from the Great Master to see how faithful we are?" Agatha asks, consternation in her voice.

  "I really don't think so," Stacy states. "I don't think the Great Master wants us to be faithful to stuff that doesn't make sense."

  "Why would the Great Master be happy with his faithful being treated so badly," asks Lauren.

  I'm thrilled that they're questioning things. This is how I prevent myself from being brainwashed. I've learned that manipulators don't like questions. They don't like people to think for themselves. Twisting ideas is their specialty.

  "Why would the Great Master give such reign to such horror?" asks Bernice.

  A knock on the door makes all of us jump out of our skin. We are completely aware of the dangerous conversation we've just been having.

  Who's here? I wonder.

  Chapter Three

  "You n-n-need me to f-f-fix something?" Miguel stutters when Stacy opens the door. The wave of relief is palpable around the room.

  "Come in, Miguelito," Stacy says. "I'm glad you were allowed to come help us.

  After stepping in, he sees me and smiles that bright smile of his. I smile back. His light-green eyes sparkle and black hair shines.

  I'm so glad to see him.

  "H-H-Hi, Monica."

  "Hi," I return.

  "Miguelito, we need you to fix the downstairs bathroom's sink," Stacy tells him.

  He nods and heads for the restroom. Stacy gives me a strange smile I don't understand. "I'll be right back," she says, going into the kitchen.

  "Do you know what she's up to?" I ask Lauren.

  She shrugs her shoulders and grins. The conversation we were having being left behind. What are these girls up to?

  The kitchen door swings open and Stacy, who like Helga had hated me until recently, walks towards me while carrying a cupcake with a candle. From hate to this! Unfortunately, there's a lot of boiled u
p anger in Paradise Village where the servants are so unhappy and the brides often feel they have to fight for slivers of power. But right now I'm overwhelmed with emotion. Without a Master constantly on their backs, the girls have flourished. The house is full of laughter now and kindness.

  "Happy birthday, Monica," Stacy gushes. The other wives follow her lead.

  Miguel steps out of the bathroom with a puzzled look on his face. "Th-Th-The s-s-s-sink was f-f-fine."

  "It was clogged this morning," Stacy explains. "It must've fixed itself."

  H-m-m. I smell fowl play.

  Miguel notices the cupcake and grins. "H-H-Happy birthday, M-M-Monica."

  Stacy's sight goes from him to me as her mouth upturns in a grin. I don't like what she's implying with her eyes. Miguel and I are just friends. In fact, that's all we can be with the way Paradise Village is structured. Besides, that kind of romantic love is not for me after what I've been through in my life. I ought to be upset with Stacy and her shenanigans, but I'd be an ingrate if I didn't feel gratitude for her little party.

  "Thank you. Thank all of you," I express.

  "We'd really like to thank you," assures Stacy, her eyes filling with water. "Thank you for personally showing me the light. I was a terrible ogre before you showed me how be a better person."

  "The rest of us would like to thank you for trying your hardest at defending us from Betsey and Master Barstowe," Agatha states, her voice shaking.

  "Yes, thank you," Lauren and Bernice say in unison.

  "Th-Th-Thank you, M-M-Monica for being y-y-you," Miguel expresses.

  "Stop now or you're going to make me cry," I demand.

  "Okay, but always remember how much we care about you," Stacy states. "Now blow your candle but don't forget to make a wish first."

  I wish to get out of Paradise Village and see my mother again. It is a wish I make every day since the day I was stolen when I was five years old.

  I insist on sharing the cupcake. We each get a tiny piece, but I wouldn't have enjoyed it if I had eaten the entire pastry by myself. After finishing it, I try to do my chores, but they tell me that they already cleaned the house. They want me to relax for a little while before going to the slave quarters.

  The family-wives and I laugh and tell silly jokes. Miguel looks on without saying much. Faking a stutter must be hard to do all the time but necessary. I roll my eyes when I think about the stupidity of the Elders and Masters thinking Miguel is slow because of a nervous stutter he had as a child. They trust him implicitly while he fakes them out.